by Linda Ford
Judd grunted. He had no idea what Louisa meant.
“She might go if you invited her.”
“What?” He stared at innocent-looking eyes. “I hardly think so. She finds it impossible to even be in the same room as me.” The way she jumped up and escaped if he entered the kitchen hurt like pouring kerosene on an open wound—one of his grandfather’s favorite medical treatments. Once he’d thought she seemed as eager to spend time together as he was.
Until he’d kissed her.
“I can’t see how it would hurt to ask her.” Louisa studied him with demanding eyes. “Unless you object to a little outing with her.”
Object? Not in this lifetime. Did Louisa mean to encourage him in Madge’s direction after the way she had hinted at her own interest? “Let me see if I understand you correctly. You’re suggesting I ask Madge to accompany me to this play?”
“Just a thought,” Louisa murmured.
Louisa’s encouragement convinced him he should try again with Madge.
But finding a chance and constructing the right words proved a challenge as she continued to avoid him.
Finally, he decided to combine two things. He would study the Gratton house as he did most evenings, only this time he planned to show up when Madge prepared to leave, providing him a chance to talk to her.
That evening he waited, leaning against the car door, and watched her approach as she left the house. She didn’t see him at first. When she did, she faltered and glanced over her shoulder as if planning to seek refuge inside the Gratton house.
“You’ve been avoiding me. Why?”
She shook her head. “I’m not.” As if to prove him wrong, she took two steps closer.
“You’re sure of that?” He kept his arms crossed and continued to lounge against the car, although every nerve in his body ached to reach for her, pull her against his chest and breathe in her sweetness.
“Sure, I’m sure.”
“Care to prove it?”
She backed up so fast he feared she’d fall.
He realized she’d interpreted his words as a challenge to a kiss. He hadn’t meant them that way, though he had no objection to it. He quickly pulled his thoughts back to reality. “If you don’t object to my company, then come with me to the play in Bowwell.”
“A play?”
Did she sound disappointed? “I heard Deacon Duff is playing. Supposed to be a good play.”
“Deacon Duff?”
Why did she seem so confused? He’d wanted to allow her a chance to say no, but now he couldn’t bear the thought. “Let’s make a day of it. We’ll go in time to have supper. I think you’d enjoy the play. What do you think?” Say yes.
“I really can’t.”
“Why? Are you afraid to take time away from work?” At the stubborn denial on her face, he pressed his point. “Shouldn’t trusting God mean a person can relax once in a while?”
“Of course I can relax.”
“Then you’ll come with me?”
“Fine. I’ll go.” She sounded as if he’d forced her into a corner and her agreement was out of necessity.
He wished he could see her better, but dusk had fallen and her face was shadowed. He moved closer, searching her expression. When he saw her tiny smile, he relaxed. She didn’t seem to mind the idea at all.
They picked Friday as the night they would go.
He held the car door for Madge and bent over to the open window as he closed it. “I’ll see you later.”
“You could ride home with me.” She smiled, then ducked her head, as if she didn’t want him to see her expression.
He fought the urge to catch her chin, tip her face and assure himself he’d seen a flash of eager welcome. Judd considered accepting a ride with her, but he still hoped Gratton would reveal his hand. Perhaps tonight someone would come calling under cover of darkness, or Gratton might now set out to meet someone—most likely a lonesome widow woman with a secret stash of cash. “I’ll be along later.”
He stepped back so she could drive away. And he started counting the hours until they headed to Bowwell.
Friday finally arrived. He wished he’d asked her to leave right after lunch, but she would likely have demurred, claiming she had work to do. He watched her scurry around in order to do the laundry before it was time to go.
Louisa noticed his distraction. “Seems she could use some help if she’s to take most of the afternoon away from her work. Which is a great idea, as far as I’m concerned. She works far too hard.”
“Yes, she does.” He tried to force his attention back to Greek conjugations. Somehow the whole language was clear as mud.
“Someone should help her,” Louisa said.
“Uh-huh.”
Louisa stared hard at him.
“Me?”
“I doubt I’d be of much use.”
He tried to guess if Louisa had some ulterior motive, for her suggestion but her eyes were guileless. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. He stared at her. She met his study without blinking. But her suggestion confused him. A few days ago she would have clung to him, fretting she’d never learn all she wanted without his help. She seemed to resent any time he spent pursuing other activities, especially if they involved Madge. Now if he didn’t know better, he would suspect her of playing matchmaker.
Not that he was about to object.
“You’re sure you don’t mind?”
“I wouldn’t suggest it if I did.”
He slammed the book shut, apologized for the sharp noise and then hurried away without giving her a chance to say anything. Her laughter followed him out the door.
Madge had finished rinsing the sheets. He grabbed the basket.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ll carry this up the stairs for you.” Before she could open her mouth or dream up a protest, he clattered up the steps.
At first Madge didn’t move, then she raced up after him. “Aren’t you supposed to be teaching Louisa?”
“She kindly gave me the rest of the afternoon off.”
Madge squinted at him. “She did, did she? Now, why would she do that?”
“’Cause she’s afraid you won’t get your work done in time to get ready, maybe?”
“She is?” She turned and grabbed a wet sheet and pegged it in place.
He ducked under the line so he could face her. “You seem surprised.” No more than he had been.
“It seems odd to think of Louisa passing up a moment of lesson time.”
“Do you question every kindness?”
She wrinkled her nose, but before she could voice an argument he let the sheet fall between them. He didn’t intend to analyze Louisa’s generous offer. The afternoon ahead promised all sorts of fun and delights that had nothing to do with the play they planned to see.
He returned outside to empty the wash water, carefully applying it to the growing plants. Despite the damage inflicted by the grasshoppers, there would be potatoes and carrots, beets, onions and even some chard, which he had developed a fondness for since coming to the Morgan household. As he headed back for the rest of the water, he glanced up and caught Madge watching him. He grinned and nodded. She blushed as bright as the combs on the chickens pecking in the yard and ducked out of sight.
Yes, it promised to be a fine day.
He hung the tubs to dry, then hurried to get ready. He wanted to go as Judd but wasn’t sure how he could accomplish it without giving away his disguise. Only one way to do it. He waited for Madge to come down with the baskets ready to deliver. “Put them in my automobile. We’ll take it.”
Her eyes widened in surprise and—dare he think—delight.
“I’ll drive up to the door of my shack and wait for you in the car.”
As she realized what he intended, a becoming pink filled her cheeks. Just like a summer rose. “You’re going as Judd,” she murmured.
“Can’t imagine enjoying the day any other way.” He could never think of himself a
s Justin when he was with her.
He drove his car close to the soddie, then hurried into clothes that fit and boots that made him feel real. He only wished he could shave off the beard, but not yet. Instead, he trimmed it well, then, carrying his hat under his arm, he slipped into the car, hoping no one would take note of the difference in his appearance. He had only a moment to wait before Madge rushed across the yard wearing a dark blue dress with a white collar that made her eyes look as brown as pure chocolate. She’d brushed her hair back and held it in place with shiny combs.
His tongue grew thick at her beauty. Keeping his thoughts and emotions under control might well turn the afternoon into delightful torture.
He wanted to spring out and open the door for her, but, afraid her sisters and mother would be watching from the house, he sat as she climbed in. “Sorry for not being a gentleman,” he murmured.
She chuckled. “Guess that’s what happens when you live a double life.”
A tiny argument sprang to his thoughts, but he dismissed it. He wouldn’t ruin the day by referring to his reasons for being Justin Bellamy.
The sun shone with usual brightness but seemed to hold less bite and more kiss. The wind blew, but gently. Or so it seemed to Judd. The sky had a diamond-like brilliance as they delivered the clean laundry then headed down the dusty road toward Bowwell.
“Have you been to the town before?” Madge asked.
“No. You’ll have to provide directions as to where we should eat and where the play is held.”
“There’s also a park in the center of town, though I wonder how it’s fared with the drought and all.”
“We’ll have to check it out.” He hoped there’d be lots of sheltered coves where he might admire her beauty and perhaps steal a kiss. Remembering how she’d reacted last time he kissed her, he decided to avoid the pleasing occupation until he could be certain she’d welcome such attention.
The hour-long drive passed quickly and pleasantly as they discussed how the Burns family was doing.
“Conrad still hasn’t changed his mind about marrying Joanie?”
“No. He’s a stubborn man. I’m afraid he’s going to break her heart.”
She shifted the discussion to Gratton. “His mother is due to arrive soon. The place is fixed up nicely for her.”
He didn’t want to ruin the day by talking of that man, but he couldn’t resist one little question. “Are you sure the woman is his mother?”
She sucked in air nosily. “Of course she is. He showed me her picture. Who else do you think she might be?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a woman he doesn’t want to confess to having no legitimate relationship to.”
She studied him intently. He fixed his gaze firmly on the road ahead. He should have kept his doubts to himself.
Finally, when he thought he would suffocate from trying to keep his thoughts under control and his face turned forward, she spoke. “I hope you don’t let what happened to your mother make you bitter and mistrusting.”
Her words sliced through his conscience. Knowing Madge’s concern, he almost threw his plans out the window. Almost—but not quite. “I don’t intend to let it. I have one goal in mind—see a certain man brought to justice. That’s all.”
She turned to watch the passing dusty fields. “I’m looking forward to the play. Everyone says it’s hilarious.”
He gratefully accepted her attempt to avoid conflict between them. “I’m looking forward to it, too.” Only it wasn’t thoughts of the play filling him with eager anticipation. It was the pleasure of her company.
Soon they came to the main street of Bowwell. Unlike most prairie towns that had one long road running either perpendicular or at right angles to the railway tracks, the streets in this town formed a T. One corner was a square filled with poplar and maple trees with benches along the perimeter and pathways leading inward to the heart.
“That’s the park I mentioned. It looks better than I expected, though there is usually an abundance of flowers in the planters.”
He parked at the side of the street. “We have lots of time. Shall we wander through it?”
“I’d like that.”
He rushed around and opened the door. As she stepped to the sidewalk, he held his arm out for her. She tucked her arm through his and smiled up shyly. He pulled his elbow close, pressing her hand to his ribs.
The park, although struggling against drought and grasshoppers, was still a pleasant place. Big trees sheltered Judd and Madge from view as they walked along the path. More benches were placed sporadically, inviting them to sit and talk. But they sauntered on. Only one woman hurried through, shepherding three children ahead of her. Muted sounds reached them from the busy streets, but other than that, they might have been alone.
Something nagged at his thoughts and demanded an answer. “What made you change your mind?”
Only the slight twitch of her arm at his side gave any indication that she knew what he referred to.
“About what?”
“Being in my company. I’d begun to think I carried the plague the way you avoided me.”
“I didn’t avoid you.”
“You did.” He pulled her around to face him. “Maybe someday you’ll feel you can tell the truth about why.”
Madge stared at a spot past his shoulder. “Because…we thought…Mother planned…” She drew in a deep breath and looked directly at him. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll tell you the reason when you tell the others the truth about who you are.”
He searched her eyes a long time, and what he saw filled him with hope and longing. He wanted to be completely honest with her, let her see into every corner of his heart, open every thought to her. He nodded. “It’s a deal, but not just yet.”
Disappointment flashed across her face, and she lowered her head.
He wanted to lift her chin and kiss away every doubt, but how could he when he hid the truth from her? “You keep your secret and I’ll keep mine.” It should have made him feel justified, but instead, it built an invisible wall between them.
No reason to let it. He had told her all she needed to know. She would only be hurt if she learned Gratton was the man he sought to bring to justice. And whatever her secret, it did not stop him from caring about her and hoping there could be something special and lasting between them.
He pulled her to his side again. “Let’s see the rest of the park.” But too soon, they reached the end and had to retrace their steps.
They returned to the heart of town. “Where do you suggest we eat?”
She appeared to ponder the question. “I’ve only eaten in one place with a very special person.”
Jealousy ground through his insides. He kept his voice low. “Yeah. Who?” Somehow, despite his intentions, his words sounded like gravel under the wheels of the car.
She noticed and laughed. “My father.”
He chuckled, as pleased as she. “Would you like to go there?”
“Yes, I would.” She still held his arm and pulled him to the right. “It’s the Silver Star dining room down at the end of the block.”
He’d have let her take him anywhere, but she only led him to a low building with a row of windows facing the street, through which he saw white tablecloths, points hanging neatly from each side. They stepped inside, and a young woman in a black dress and tiny white apron led them to a table next to the window, partially hidden by a branching fern.
The girl slipped away, leaving them to study the menus. Judd didn’t care what they ate, but he wanted the evening to be special, memorable for Madge.
“The beef tenderloin sounds good.”
“It does.”
He ordered fresh lemonade to accompany the meal and sat back to study Madge as they waited for their food. Aware of his scrutiny, she darted little glances at him and fiddled with her fork. Realizing he made her nervous, he shifted to look out the window. “Why did your father bring you here?”
She chuckled. “Because I insist
ed I should accompany him when he came to inspect a piece of machinery. I wanted to see him conduct business.” A faraway look filled her eyes. “He was a canny businessman. He managed to walk away from most deals pleased with his negotiations while the other party took his money and considered themselves fortunate to have made such a good bargain. I learned a lot from him.”
He could see her doing the same—getting the deal she wanted, yet leaving the other person thinking he had gotten what he wanted. “Your father sounds like a good man.”
“He was a great man. He never compromised, yet he never accepted a bad deal, either. I miss him.” She sighed. “I wonder if he would be disappointed in me for persuading Mother to let the farmland go.”
Her sadness tore at Judd’s insides, and he reached across the table and captured her restless hands. “If he was the astute businessman you say he was, he would know and approve that you did what you must to salvage your home.”
The smile she favored him with slid through his thoughts like warm honey, sweet and healing. He held her gaze, drinking deeply of the way she openly met his look, silently baring her heart to him. “Madge, I—”
“Your meals.” The interruption ended the opportunity to say how he felt.
He swallowed back the urge to tell the woman he didn’t care if he ate or not. But Madge smiled her thanks.
They waited until the server moved off. Madge gave him an expectant look. He realized she waited for him to offer the blessing. For an uncomfortable moment, Judd wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t much for praying out loud in public. Yet his conscience wouldn’t allow him to partake of such a lovely meal with Madge across from him without thanking God. Madge smiled sweetly and his nervousness disappeared.
“I’ll say the grace,” he said.
She reached for his hands and bowed her head. For a frantic heartbeat he couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Her gesture was so full of simple faith in him, it made his lungs stall. He vowed he would never do anything to make her trust falter. Then he bowed his head and, from a heart overflowing with gratitude, he offered a sincere prayer of thanks.
For a few minutes, they ate in silence. The food was as good as it smelled.